The Last Wizard
by Ireth-Tasartir
Summary: Sequel to Human Spirit. TY or TR? TIdus has a son. A boy with a mysterious past, a weird madness is spreading through Spira, the farplane is collapsing, the destruction of Spira is near. Only one can save it, but he will have to risk his love.


"You have a son!" exclaimed Kimahri with a tired, rasped breath.

"I have a what?" exclaimed Tidus glancing at Kimahri as if he had gone crazy.

"Actually you have a son and a daughter, the boy's name is Vaan, the girl I don't know!" Kimahri inhaled several deep breaths before pronouncing each word, not without effort, for he had ran all the way from Gagazet.

"Are they all right?" intervened Rikku curiously, serious and consternate as she was.

Tidus had suddenly paled, he felt dizzy, nauseous, and began to fold upon his stomach like and envelope. He felt himself collapse onto the ground rather weakly, all his strength drained by the strength of the impact. Landing with a thud, his body collided with the hard tiles of the tower's floor. The man laid there, sitting on the ground with a blank look, breathing slowly and with effort, analyzing all the information he had gathered. Rikku kneeled next to him and gripped his hand worriedly, her spiralled, green eyes sparkling with concern.

"That is impossible!" Tidus exclaimed all of a sudden, never gazing at the two friends.

The ronso and the Al Bhed glanced at him with worry. They had stopped their conversation when the boy had succumbed to gravity, and were interrupted once again, this time by a vicious affirmation of self confirmation. Both knew how unbearable it was for Tidus to even think Lya might still be alive somewhere.

"It's impossible, I saw Lya die before me!" Tidus snapped angrily, this time glancing at the two, tears swelling in his eyes, flooding like a stream.

"I don't doubt that Tidus, but you told me the story, you told me what happened! What if Lya gave birth to your children before rushing to save you?" growled Kimahri now with a calm voice, his breathing normal again.

"How… well… I don't think…" Tidus was at a total loss of words. "Well, ok, then she might have given birth to this children, but how did you find out that my children are alive?" The boy finally snapped with more courage, deep inside him happy, hence not wanting to gather false hopes.

"Because she left the children with my people, my Ronso people, and they had the brilliant idea of hiding behind a rock and carve their story in ancient Ronso. " Explained Kimahri slightly frustrated, "Apart of that, the boy specifies that he is the son of Lya and Tidus! If it still isn't clear to you, he states he is a dragon!" he finished with a sigh.

"But Vaan is not a dragon name!" complained Tidus again, receiving one very nasty slap on the arm from Rikku.

"It isn't, it's an old Ronso name which means 'Wizard'." Kimahri pointed out shrugging, he was calm again.

Tidus thought about it for a few minutes. It seemed logical, Lya had been brave, but she had not been crazy to put in danger the precious life growing within herself. Then again, she was crazy enough to rush into battle when she had just given to birth, and probably she had been so preoccupied of aiding him that she forgot to name the children. They hadn't been prepared for two children either, so maybe she had only named the girl, Laise. That wasn't probable either, but the only information he had about his children were the carvings of a wall, older than time itself.

"What I don't get!" commented Rikku, standing up and gesturing vividly to call the attention, "what I don't get is how can Tidus' children be alive after a thousand years!" she finished proudly, making her point clear by shaking her finger vigorously.

"Simple Rikku!" Tidus stood up, still slightly dizzy, but now recovered, "dragons have an enormous lifespan." Tidus shook his head, staring at the girl lastimously, observing her mortality with fear and sadness.

"So, if he is a thousand years old, what does he look like? A seventy year old?" Rikku made an approximate calculation, conscious that Tidus had been a Fayth, and probably life hadn't affected him the way it should have.

"Actually Rikku, we have a lifespan of four thousand to five thousand years. My son, if he is alive, must have the looks of a seventeen year old teenager." Tidus pointed out sighing, trying to imagine what his two children must look like.

"Oh… well, now that you know he might be alive, what are you going to do?" Rikku inquired gazing at him with fearful eyes.

"I'll go find him!" Tidus stated, glancing at the girl as if it was something obvious.

"I'll go with you!" Rikku snapped, staring at the boy with a defiant gaze.

"No, you stay here, you are the High Priestess!" Tidus explained, staring at the girl through worried eyes, the truth being he didn't want to loose her like he had lost Lya.

"Kimahri, come with me, lets get some maps, maybe Laethos left some more hints!" Tidus stated shrugging, retreating into the depths of the castle.

Rikku stared at the two leaving into the insides of a chamber. She then allowed herself to collapse onto the floor of the entrance, next to the water. The sorceress hugged her knees, rocking her body back and forth, tears flooding through her eyes, tears of grief and despair. She was not worried about the perils of such journey, Tidus had proved to be more powerful than he had ever been. There was this terrible feeling, this thought that had been nagging her lately, this horrible sensation, like a premonition that invaded her dreams. Rikku felt that if Tidus walked past the gates of the tower, she would never see him again.

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The ship was rocking back and forth aggressively, its ragged, torn sails shaking and fluttering, whistling with a ghastly sound. The black flag with a white skull and crossed sword, was rippling and waving with the nervous dancing of the night wind. Stars sparkled in a clear sky, the dragon head bit threateningly to the waves, keeping them tame and tranquil to the menace of his ferocity. Such was the presence of the "Sea Wyrm", the most fearsome pirate ship to ever course the oceans of Spira.

The only man on deck was the watchman, the pirate who was told to keep an eye out for possible enemies. The crew was inside, celebrating a party. They had been very lucky today, for they had accidentally crossed paths with a merchant ship that had unloaded its cargo and was full of money and gold, the payments for the goods it had once contained. So this was the reason for the cups, the yells, the laughs and the cheers. The captain, however glad about his luck, was inside his chambers, creating poetry, or music, or whichever he felt, for captain Vasu enjoyed arts as much as a good swords fight.

Inside the ship's dining room, the men and women members of the crew clashed jars full of beer, the best beer of all Spira. They laughed with jokes, yelled songs at full lung, and praised themselves for their fabulous work. As always, there was no survivor, and their lady was pregnant with gold. A young woman, dark in skin, covered in earrings clashed cups with a youth with such strength he was nearly thrown off the chair.

The boy laughed, alcohol up his mind already. He was a very handsome boy, with a youth in skin and a wisdom in eyes it was impossible to determine his true age. He was not too tall, and was rather slim, however his muscles were hard like stones, and his skin, although submitted to daily sun, was naturally pale, with a silvery tone. His face had handsome, gentle features, a longish face, with a fleshy mouth, similar to his mother's, a pair of flashing blue eyes, so like the ocean anything gazing into them was bound to drown. His hair was the brightest gold, with flashes of silver dancing in the silky strands. It was rather short, leaving long strands over the forehead, and spiked up in the back. However his eyes were captivating, and they had earned him the nickname of Ocean Eyes.

"Vaan, good hunting Vaan!" the woman chimed happily, letting drops of beer pour from her cup before gulping down a large amount of the golden liquid.

"And good killing, Marianne!" bellowed Vaan in a gentle, melodious voice, hoarse from the contact with smoke and drink.

"Good killing!" bellowed some other pirates happily, raising their mugs full of beer and rum.

"Hey Vaan, why don't ye tell us one of your stories? Ye wicked sea dragon!" inquired a musculous pirate from another table.

"I don't think I feel like!" Vaan explained, shaking his head and taking another large swig of beer from his mug.

"Come on Vaan, ye do it fer me?" Bloodthirsty Marianne flapped her eyelashes pleadingly. Vaan knew why she did that, but he couldn't help succumbing to her charms, she was simply lovely.

"Er, all right, but know I do it fer ye, hun! Ye are terrible, Bloodthirsty Sea Vixen!" Vaan pointed at her with a shaky finger, standing up and tumbling lightly, suddenly realizing how dizzy he was.

"Thank you!" Marianne smirked like a vampire, she felt flattered by the boy's words, for it was just a picture of her personality.

"Well, lets see what I… remember." The youth hesitated lightly, his gears working, seeking for one story that might be worth telling.

"Oh, ya… this one is old… older than time, older than Fayths, than Aeons, and older than Sinh. This story speaks of how the Fayths were born, and how they forged their terrible weapons, the Aeons, to fight Sinh.

Long time ago, in earth roamed other creatures apart from Al Bhed, Ronsos, Yevonies, Guados, and Pirates. It was a time of dragons, of wizards, elven warriors, valiant knights on shinning armours, it was a time where magic reigned our world.

Ambition was the cause of Sinh appearing, a sorceress who craved more and more power, performed a spell to summon all the powers of the universe. In her ambition, she chose only those who were to grant her the abilities of a God, those who would triumph over the rest, those often used to gain the desired. She chose ambition, lust, envy, prejudice, and all of those terrible sins that condemn humanity. The witch gained that she craved for, but in result she became a fierce monster, uncontrolled, hence agonizing in the pain of grief, of despair.

The Witch was conscious that she had become invincible and immortal, and also that she had discarded the most important and powerful magic she had ever had, Love." At this remark, several pirates snarled threateningly, and caressed their swords affectively. Vaan had stopped too, hence his expression was thoughtful, as if something had suddenly clicked in a remote area of his mind.

"Ye, ass licking manatee, get to the fight or I'll make mince meat out of ye!" bellowed a pirate, raising his mug.

"Ok, ok! Well, Sinh came and destroyed Spira, town by town, city by city, and when he reached to Zanarkand, the army presented a terrible fight. Most perished, few ran away, and those who survived created the Council of the Survivors, later called the Council of the Fayths. It was formed by Lane Quickfingers, a thief or pirate, Elaniem Farastir, the elven maiden, Jake Ternal the knight, Shadow of the Moon the werewolf, Feren Nersal the necromancer, Yethas Valefor and Tidus Laethos the Guardians of Bahamut.

They decided to dream, and became the Fayths, created the aeons and such the fight against Sinh began." Vaan smiled pleased with himself at the story he had just related, where he got all those stories from, he didn't remember, but he knew someone had told him a long time ago.

"What are ye talkin bout, ye lil feral dog" snarled one of the pirates angrily, pointing at him with a rather sharp dagger.

"Exactly, how dare ye throw mud over Lane Quickfingers' name, he was the first pirate, ye know? I should cut your tongue fer this and throw it ter the sharks!" Another pirate bellowed highly offended.

"Hey, hey, relax, it's just a story!" Vaan was beginning to alarm, and he extended his palms forwards while recoiling, his eyes looking at Marianne, who glanced at him shrugging. It was pirates' life, your problems were your problems.

"Yer gunna be a story, dirty mop of rotten kelp!" one of the pirates, drunk to the most, leapt upon him, sword high and ready.

Vaan unsheathed his very own sword and stopped the blow with agility. Then the two pirates began a rapid consecution of blows, steps and blows, mastering the skills to the most, both proving to be worthy and strong opponents. The crowd cheered and wailed, punching the wooden tables strongly, cheering for one, cheering for the other. Marianne stared at Vaan's envious skills, and smiled lightly to herself. She liked the boy, but he didn't belong to this world, hence he could never belong to her, because he only belonged to himself. Somehow there was a wilderness in his gentle nature that could not be tamed.

The door slammed open with a storming sound. The crew went silent, the combatants went very still, and their attention was focused on the entrance. A man with greying hair, long and thick, and rough like the fur of a boar, entered the room with and angry glint in his pale eyes.

"What is going on? I can't concentrate on my reading with all this cacophony! You behave like wild beast, and not like civil men!" the captain snapped with his exquisite manners, and peculiar expressions.

"Captain, it's this scallywag ere', tellin' false tales about the Fayths and our ancestor!" one of the pirates pointed at Vaan, obtaining the nodding and agreeing murmurs from the rest of the crew.

"Is that true?" inquired the captain very seriously.

Vaan nodded and sheathed the sword back to its sheath. He looked down shamefully, hence all his senses alert in case there was treason attack over him, like was so common between pirates.

"Come with me, son!" the captain ordered and exited the room, not without one last threatening glare around the place to maintain the order.

Vaan, head down with shame, paced towards the exit under the growls of the pirates, and the hisses, and the threats of death. This was normal, they were pirates, but he hated deceiving Vasu, someone who had always been very nice to him. Pirates could be nice, cruel and cold hearted, but they maintained a fierce relation within their circle, tight and strong, defending themselves, except in fights with those of their same circle.

Once outside, the two paced across the deck in silence, admiring the beauty of the starry sky, and breathing the refreshing, cool breeze of the salty ocean.

"Vaan, son, I appreciate you, and while I don't question your love for stories (indeed, it is a precious gift) I must warn you not to tell lies, or disgrace the name of Lane Quickfingers, for he is the father of all pirates." Captain Vasu explained calmly, never gazing at the boy, yet speaking with such gentle words, such care.

"But Captain, I did it to entertain them, like always. They expect me to be what I am not, I am not a storyteller, I'm a pirate!" Vaan exclaimed fiercely, feeling insulted.

"Let me tell you something boy. You may be, or not a storyteller, but something I know for sure, the blood of Lane doesn't go through your veins, you haven't got a drop of pirate blood in you. You are far too noble, a knight, a warrior, perhaps." Vasu affirmed fiercely, in a silent hiss, keeping their words to themselves.

"No, that is not true, I have killed, sacked, robbed, a pirate's life is what I like, it's what I am!" Vaan said feeling his heart shatter in pieces, fear stabbing his soul.

"You might have done all those things, but you didn't enjoy them truly Vaan. I'm sorry boy but you are not a pirate!" the captain Vasu said, shattering Vaan's world.

"Then… the why do you keep me around?" growled Vaan gathering the courage in his own fury, pacing around until he was leaning against the main mast.

"Because I have never seen one as skilled with swords as you, boy. You are useful, and I have taken a liking to you. However find your life, like I found mine! You will never be truly happy here!" captain Vasu explained placing a hand on the boy's shoulder.

"What… what were ye before being a pirate?" inquired Vaan with a tremulous voice, leaning his weight on the mast.

"I was a Summoner!" Vasu said before retreating back into his chambers.

Vaan grieved alone in his despair. He felt his world shatter, more than it had already done. It was always confusing, he never understood why he was so different, why things were so special for him. Vaan had suddenly appeared in Luca, disoriented, with amnesia, and remembering only parts of his life that made no sense. He had found a living, not the best living, but one comfortable living at least. Now all that had vanished, and Vaan allowed his despair to flow with him. He cried for a few minutes, sobbing silently, letting all his sadness flow with the tears as his back was still pressed against the main mast.

There was a loud crack, a dry shatter of wood being torn. Vaan looked up in time to see the very edge of the mast, where the watch platform was situated, break and collapse. The boy rubbed his tears clean and saw with disbelief how it had broken by itself, and was falling upon the ocean. The vigilant pirate began to yell as the wood, and the gravity pulled him towards the sea. A loud splash was heard, and the platform floated lazily on the warm waters, the flag now damped and still.

"Ar ye ok?" bellowed Vaan with curiosity, while he scanned for a rope or something to throw him.

"Do ye see me ok? Help me outta 'ere, ye son of a Vihur!" the pirate screamed at him shaking a fist threateningly, while the other hand gripped the piece of the mast.

Suddenly Vaan saw the captain glancing at him from the entrance to his room, while the crew stared at him from the entrance to the dining room. Both were silent, expecting an explanation to what might have happened.

"It just broke and fell!" Vaan explained calmly, pointing at the bellowing pirate.

The crew and the captain just glance at him with disbelieving eyes, some with some hesitation, other with a snicker in their faces, and the captain with a gentle smile.

"It's true! It wasn't me! How the heck would I be able ter tear the mast from 'ere!" the boy snapped at the crew.

The crew retreated back to their doing, murmuring, speaking in whispers, and some hissing at Vaan with the anger still present, the reserved rabid sensation caused by the story. Shrugging, the young pirate picked one of the cannon ropes and threw it at the pirate, who picked it bellowing such terrible curses at the mast it was scary to see him mention such threats at a piece of floating wood.

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Sinh, Sinh pouncing upon us once again. The visions are blurry, and the images are familiar and distant all the same. It's a wonderful sighting, the colossus towering over me, with all their grand power. Yet now I am the one towering over the buildings, as I pounce upon Sinh to protect the city, my people. People that are so familiar and so distant, so well known and such strangers.

There is a bright blow, and I am thrown to the ground, torn and bleeding. I am in terrible pain, but I hear sobbing, the cries of someone close, cries of pain, and there are cries of terrible grief, the ache of the soul. I stand up and race, wanting to encounter the source of such terrible feelings. As I turn a corner I see it, and my heart collapses, as my whole soul shatters into a million pieces. Terrible visions, cruelty of the world, unfairness of life, how terribly wicked can destiny be?

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There was a loud gasp as the images of the dream, and the sensations felt so realistic became too unbearable for…

To Be Continued…

AN: There it is, the first short chapter of my story. Let me remind you that it is the sequel to Human Spirit, and I believe the only one. I have a load of ideas for this story, and I think you might like it. Well, please, read and review.


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